


Covenant

by grelleswife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Covenants, Fluff, Grelle finally gets to be a wife, Marriage Proposal, Other, which she fully deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 21:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Demons are capable entering many kinds of covenant, and Sebastian wishes to form a particular one with Grelle.





	Covenant

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anonymous Tumblr prompt requesting a Sebagrelle proposal. I wanted to use this oneshot as a chance to explore a demon's conception of marriage and hope that what I wrote is of interest. As always, do let me know your thoughts!

Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm,

for love is strong as death,

jealousy is fierce as the grave.

Song of Solomon 8:6 English Standard Version (ESV)

Midnight reigned over the Phantomhive gardens. The rustlings of nocturnal creatures stirred the air, and the stars glimmered, flickering torches illuminating the sky. Unbeknownst to the mortals who slumbered within the manor, Sebastian had prepared a small dinner table for death incarnate. The moon watched Sebastian and his lover while her pearly rays shone a spotlight upon them, but she wasn’t telling.

Grelle was exquisite, clad in a daring crimson vest that left much of her torso exposed, lacy black half-gloves, and a dark, close-fitting pair of trousers. A simple ensemble, but one that displayed the reaper’s confidence in her beauty. Sebastian’s eyes raked covetously over her muscular arms and torso.

“Do I tempt you, Bassy?” she purred, and the demon barely managed to suppress a whine as she reclined in her chair. Those shoulders were truly divine.

“Exceedingly so, Miss Sutcliff,” he smiled. “You sorely test a humble butler’s virtue.”

“As if you had any!” she guffawed. “No, darling, you’re like me; when you’re hungry, you want to be fed. Soooo, after dinner, why not indulge yourself and have _me_?” Her ruby-red lips parted to reveal teeth like daggers, cruel and carnivorous.

“All in due time.” The proposition was certainly appealing, but there was a pressing aim that he must first achieve. He had invited Grelle here tonight to pose a question that had consumed his thoughts for some time. Sebastian seated himself and proffered a gloved hand. Grelle delicately bit into the cloth, tugging it off in a slow, fluid motion. The demon gave an involuntary sigh. The sensation of removing a glove was as orgasmic and intimate for him as slipping out of her lingerie was for Grelle, and the reaper was well acquainted with this weakness.

She seized his hand and kissed the contract seal emblazoned thereon. Her lips were a scorching brand pressed into the flesh with ferocious zeal, painting the red imprint of her lipstick like a rose springing defiantly among the tangle of black lines. Grelle Sutcliff was a sphinx without secrets, and her intentions could not have been plainer. With this declaration, she sought to expunge the arcane symbols in order to rechristen Sebastian as hers. No clauses or compromises. No strings attached.

“Will this bloody contract ever end? I so detest sharing my Bassy’s time with others,” she griped in frustration. Her jealousy was as demanding as the inevitability of death.

_You would baptize me in scarlet, Miss Sutcliff? The hour is closer than you think._

“A covenant with one’s master is not to be trifled with, _rufina_. There are those of my kind who gluttonously accrue multiple contracts like stray dogs trotting after anyone who tosses them a scrap of meat. Occasionally, a base demon will succumb to their greed and break the covenant outright to enjoy an early meal—snatching the cake from the oven before it is fully baked, so to speak. But, in my opinion, that just isn’t a beautiful thing to do.”

“You and your aesthetics, Bassy,” Grelle rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re like an old curmudgeon set in his ways.”

“_Old_?” Sebastian protested indignantly.

“Darling, you _were_ around to witness the fall of the Roman Empire and spread the black death through Europe,” she drawled. “Surely you count as middle-aged, at the very least.” Before Sebastian had a chance to think up a sufficiently acerbic riposte, she leaned forward and whispered sultrily, “Luckily for you, I’ve always preferred older men.”

The demon’s heart raced when he realized that this was the perfect opportunity for the segue.

_What decision shall you make when you stand at the threshold, Grelle? _He interlocked his fingers and straightened his spine, schooling his countenance to be as untroubled as a still pond. Sebastian had been planning this occasion for months, and he had to keep his wits about him. No time for jitters.

“Regardless of how old he might be, there are various kinds of covenant a demon can make,” he said, returning to the earlier subject of conversation in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

“But don’t demons normally enter contracts to snare a human soul?” she asked inquisitively.

“That is the most widely known arrangement, but we also forge contracts with eachother from time to time,” Sebastian explained, maintaining a neutral expression.

Grelle’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Are you lot of bunch of cannibals, then?”

Sebastian chuckled, crossing his legs and leaning back insouciantly. “Not every contract culminates in a meal, _rufina_. Sometimes lesser demons pledge themselves to one with greater power or status and fight as their private soldiers, a bit like the idiots who serve the young master. My legions are bound thus to me.”

“Who could have guessed I’d end up courting a man of noble birth!” Grelle squealed happily. While he hadn’t yet revealed his full identity to the reaper, Sebastian had told her of his prestigious rank (he might have exaggerated it slightly, but that was neither here nor there) and been thrilled at her enthusiastic response. Picking up the thread of the conversation, he continued.

“We also covenant with other demons if we need to combine forces in order to achieve a common goal. Depending on the circumstances, dozens might join their forms and consciousness in order to create a new demon before which even goddesses such as yourself would tremble.”

“Never underestimate a lady, Sebas,” Grelle stuck out her tongue, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Fighting a creature like _that_… oh, what a bloodbath,” she murmured dreamily. Sebastian felt a warm glow of pride. _Yes, she’s worthy!_ Grelle Sutcliff was holy water that tasted of hellfire, and he wanted to drink every last drop. Speaking of which…

Sebastian wrapped his fingers around the base of the wine bottle at the end of the table, carefully pouring some of its contents into a nearby glass. Grelle said nothing, but she regarded him keenly. _Do you know what I’m about, Miss Sutcliff?_

“There is another covenant that two or more demons may make among themselves,” he added, quickly setting down the bottle to avoid betraying the tremor that seized his hand. “Hell is an infinite solitude on a scale that a human mind cannot withstand. _We_ are accustomed to our abode, but the isolation that surrounds us and that is the fabric of our being is a heavy burden to bear. Atlas himself would be crushed beneath its weight. If, in the course of their perpetual wanderings, a demon finds someone with whom to share their eternity, it becomes more palatable.”

He looked down, tapping the base of the wine glass thoughtfully. “I used to find such covenants a pointless frivolity. Then I met a certain woman who helped me understand that I had been lonely before, and who taught me to love the color red. I would fain have her stay by side.”

He lifted the wine glass and set it in front of Grelle. It was the first piece moved across the board in a game of chess, the hand offered to a partner with whom he wished to dance. Elbows on the table, Sebastian placed his chin on his hands and smiled tenderly at the flabbergasted reaper. He allowed his essence to show through his disguise, and tendrils of darkness swirled about him as his eyes burned scarlet. “Drink of the cup and covenant with me, and I will seal you with the Solomonic seal.”

“Or, to put it in more human terms, marry me.”

From the beginning, Grelle had suspected that Sebastian had something important on his mind. He was more cryptic than a cat and prone to be taciturn where his private sentiments were concerned, even with her. However, Grelle had a lover’s familiarity with the subtle hints that the demon failed to conceal. His gaze was abstracted at times, a thousand thoughts behind his eyes. A faint tension ran through his body, and his hands (those beautiful, capable hands that could undo her with a touch) fidgeted on occasion. _Hmm…so, you’re planning something, Bassy, and you’re a liiitle nervous about it._

She almost entertained the ludicrous hope that he was preparing to ask her The Question (this was a candlelit dinner for two, after all), but Sebastian was a demon, and she shouldn’t anthropomorphize him. They probably didn’t have marriages in the first place. Why set herself up for disappointment?

That hope had returned, however, when Bassy started all that talk of covenants. Regardless of whether he intended to or not, Sebastian rarely got to the heart of a matter straightaway. He favored an oblique approach, his elliptical speech rivaling the oracle of Delphi. The demon circled around an issue in tightening gyres like a hawk gradually closing in on his prey before saying what he meant. Was all this exposition a preamble to a proposal offered on bended knee?

When he gave her the wine, time ground to a halt. This wasn’t how she had envisioned it happening. In his own way, though, he…he was proposing. To her. Grelle had spent numbing decades as the dispatch’s shame and guilty pleasure. She still bitterly remembered one erstwhile bedfellow informing his companions that “Sutcliff’s a whore, but he’s good for a drunk night’s fuck if you can survive those teeth,” when he didn’t notice she was eavesdropping. Grelle knew better, of course—she was a _lady_, but she had resigned herself to the bleak reality that she would never be anyone’s wife. What respectable reaper would marry Jack the Ripper?

Demons did not share such scruples, apparently.

“If you were one of my kind, I would offer you the finest suffering distilled from a high-quality soul, or blood from fresh-made sacrifice, but you cannot consume the former, and I assumed you would find the later distasteful, so I deemed wine most appropriate…” Sebastian started babbling, blushing at his own display of anxiety.

He was such a dear. He projected an air of mystique and elegance and was capable of horrific deeds, but the butler had oddly charming moments when he was as vulnerable and unsure as any human.

Grelle’s eyes filled with tears that blotted the demon from her vision. For a moment, her throat felt too tight to force out a syllable.

“Sebastian Michaelis, if you’re joking with me, I swear I’ll run you through with my death scythe.” She desperately wanted this to be true, but the part of her that had endured betrayal after betrayal at men’s hands was scared to believe it.

“I’m not toying with you, Miss Sutcliff. As a matter of fact, I’m in dead earnest.”

_He wants me hewantsmehewantsme**hewantsme**…_

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing, before whispering a tremulous “Yes.” Sebastian purred. Grelle grinned at that, lifting her head. “What do I have to do?” she asked.

“Drink, and share it with me. Then, I’ll put the mark of the covenant on our bodies, and we’ll be betrothed.”

She sipped at the wine, savoring its bouquet, and the reaper’s eyes glinted as an idea occurred to her. Downing the rest, she reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s chin. The startled demon didn’t even have time to demand what she was doing before Grelle brought their lips together, feeding him the wine mouth to mouth.

Sebastian made a lewd, unusually submissive sound, and Grelle smirked against his lips. _Splendid, little Sebas. I hope I’m pleasing to the palate. _Grelle sensed a strange power whirling around them. The force of a covenant taking effect?

“If I’m to be your wife, Bassy, then you mustn’t drink from anyone else but me,” she admonished.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Nor would I wish to,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now for the seal.”

Leaving the table, they knelt together in the grass, Sebastian getting on his hands and knees so that his mouth was level with Grelle’s chest. “This will be painful,” he cautioned. “All contracts entail sacrifice.”

Grelle didn’t flinch. “I’m not afraid, Bassy.”

“I’ll ask one last time.” His breath ghosted against her chest. “Do you covenant with me, Grelle Sutcliff?”

Grelle gazed up at the sidereal heavens. “I do.”

The demon kissed the ivory skin above her heart, fangs drawing forth scarlet pinpricks of blood. “_Signo_,” he whispered.

“Haaaaaah,” Grelle gasped, her chest seized by an agonizing burning sensation. Her fingers gripped blindly at Sebastian’s coat as she was overwhelmed by an ancient magic that knit their souls together. The demon’s hand pressed against the small of her back, steadying her. For a moment, Grelle could have sworn she heard the stars sing, their celestial harmonies wrapping around her.

Swiftly, the pain subsided. Grelle glanced down and grinned when she saw the new contract seal that had formed on her breast. It was different than the one on Sebastian’s hand, a sequence of circles and lines whose import was a mystery. They marked her as Sebastian’s, though, and that was enough for her.

“Show me yours, darling!” Grelle cried eagerly as she unbuttoned the demon’s shirt to reveal the seal on his chest—undulating briars surrounding a rose. She traced the lines, Sebastian’s skin twitching slightly beneath her touch.

“_Mea, tota mea_,” the demon crooned, drawing Grelle into his arms and rocking her gently. Then, he paused, fumbling at his pants pocket.

“How could I forget?” he muttered in self-reproach. Grelle put a hand over her mouth when she saw the glittering ruby inlaid in silver Sebastian held in his palm.

“A custom peculiar to mortals,” he remarked as he slipped it on her finger, “but I would be remiss if I didn’t include the ring.” Grelle kissed the gemstone, tears trickling down her cheeks once again.

Sealed.

**Author's Note:**

> "Grelle Sutcliff was a sphinx without secrets": Taken from a line in Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, in which women are described as "sphinxes without secrets."
> 
> "My legions...the Solomonic seal": Based on some fascinating theories in the fandom, I headcanon that Sebastian is actually the Marquis Naberius, one of the demons mentioned in the grimoire The Lesser Key of Solomon. According to the lore, the Marquis has several legions under his command.
> 
> "the oracle of Delphi": the high priestess of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in ancient Greece. Legend has it that the prophetess's utterances were so opaque as to be practically unintelligible.
> 
> "feeding him the wine mouth to mouth": This scene was inspired by a line from Grelle's anime character song "Shinkou" (one translation reads, "The old folklore and some red wine/please allow me to feed them to you mouth-to-mouth.")
> 
> "Signo" (verb, Latin): I seal
> 
> "Mea, tota mea" (Latin): Mine, all mine
> 
> The seal on Grelle's chest is meant to be Naberius's sigil. Of course, I just made up the "Grelle contract seal" that appears on Sebastian's skin.
> 
> If you'd like an idea of what the stars were singing, I recommend listening to Rene Clausen's choral work, "Set Me As a Seal Upon Your Heart." <3
> 
> Disclaimer: Not entirely sure if the Latin is correct, so please let me know if I screwed it up! XD


End file.
